to make things easy for you. No doubt you hoped to sway me with your large, worried eyes, no doubt you’ve been led to believe that I can be persuaded to give way. Unfortunately—for you—that is not to be. To put it in its simplest form, Miss James, and having seen you for myself, having had confirmed every one of my very worst fears—that is to say, having seen for myself that you are a young woman who likes expensive clothes, and doubtless everything that goes with them; that you are at a guess somewhere in your mid-twenties; that you are bold enough to come here demanding to see me; there is simply no way I shall allow you to ruin my brother’s life by trapping him into marriage simply because of an affair you had with him several months ago!’
Jessica was totally lost for words. His brother, he had said. That meant he wasn’t—couldn’t be Jorge de Calvadores, but he obviously thought she was Isabel. She was on the verge of correcting him when she realised what else he had said. ‘An affair’. Isabel had given her the distinct impression that Jorge was the one pressing her into an unwanted engagement, whereas his brother seemed to think the boot was very much on the other foot. Clearly there were some misunderstandings to be sorted out!
CHAPTER TWO
SHE TOOK A deep breath, wondering where to begin. Perhaps if she were to explain to him first that she wasn’t Isabel. How contemptuous he had been about her cousin! He really was insufferably proud and arrogant; she didn’t like him at all, she decided, eyeing him militantly.
She opened her mouth to explain, but was stunned into silence by the cynical way he was looking at her; a way no man had ever looked at her before, she realised, feeling the heat rising through her body. His study was an openly sexual one, and not merely sexual but contemptuous. Good heavens, it could have been Isabel exposed to that merciless scrutiny that made no allowance for feminine modesty or embarrassment! And she had thought Spaniards were supposed to be reticent, cultured and, above all, respectful to women!
‘You don’t understand,’ she began shakily when she had recovered her composure, anger fanned into tiny, darting flames by the look she had seen in his eyes.
‘On the contrary, I understand all too well,’ came the crisp response. ‘Dios, do you not think I know what goes on at these holiday resorts?’ His finely cut mouth curled sneeringly downwards. ‘You must have thought yourself extremely fortunate to meet a young man as wealthy and unworldly as my young brother, but unfortunately for you, Jorge does not come into his inheritance for half a dozen more years, when he reaches his twenty-fifth birthday. Until then I stand guardian to him, and you may take it that I shall do everything in my power to free him from your clutches. I must say I am surprised at your coming here,’ he added. ‘I thought Jorge had already made it clear to you that the affair was over. You should have persuaded him to pay for his pleasure at the time, Miss James,’ he told her contemptuously. ‘Now it is too late; now he sees you for what you really are.’ His lip curled, and Jessica went hot and cold to think of Isabel being forced to stand here and listen to these insults.
‘Your brother loved m-my … me,’ she corrected herself hurriedly. ‘He …’
‘—Desired your body,’ she was told flatly, ‘and in his innocence mistook such desire for a far different emotion—a fact which you used to your advantage, using his lust for you to force him …’
‘Just a moment!’ she inserted, with a sudden resurgence of her normal coolness. ‘If you are implying that Jorge was forced into …’
‘Oh, I am aware that there was no question of “force” as such,’ the icy voice agreed. ‘Bemused, dazzled, dragged out of his depth—these would perhaps be better descriptions. You are an attractive woman,’ he told her, openly assessing the shape of her body beneath the thin silk, ‘not perhaps in Jorge’s usual style, but no matter … Of course I realise why you are here. I suppose you thought that a personal appearance might be just the goad he needed. Absence makes the heart grow fonder—of someone else, is that it?’
Matters had gone far enough. There was a limit to the amount of time she intended to simply stand there and allow him to insult her.
‘Before we go any further, I ought to tell you that I have no desire at all to become engaged to your brother,’ Jessica told him truthfully, ‘In fact …’
‘Oh, come, you cannot expect me to believe that?’ he said softly. ‘Perhaps I should refresh your memory. I have here your last letter to Jorge. He brought it to me in a very troubled frame of mind. It seems that while he enjoyed your … company, the constant pressure you put on him to announce your engagement has panicked him into confiding in me.’
‘You having considerable experience of ridding yourself of unwanted women, I suppose?’ Jessica supplied sweetly. ‘One of the penalties of being wealthy!’
The dark flush of colour beneath his skin brought her a fierce sense of satisfaction. He hadn’t liked her implication that women would only find him attractive for his wealth, and she knew it wasn’t true. He was too intensely male for that. She found herself wondering if he was married, and then squashed the thought as being of no concern to her.
‘You must accept that Jorge no longer wishes to have anything to do with you,’ she was told implacably, ‘and even if he did, I would do everything in my power to dissuade him from marrying a woman like you. What attracted you to him the most? Or can I guess?’
‘If you did you’d be wrong,’ Jessica told him in a clipped voice. ‘As I’ve already said, I have no desire to marry your brother.’
‘No?’ With a swift movement he reached inside his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper. ‘Read this—perhaps it will help you remember,’ he said contemptuously.
Unwillingly Jessica took the letter, her fingertips brushing him as she did, strange quivers of sensation running up her arm as she recoiled from the brief contact.
Matters had gone far enough. She would have to tell him the truth. She opened the letter, and her heart dropped. She had barely done more than read the first couple of lines, skimming quickly over them, but it was enough to bring a burning colour to her face. Isabel and Jorge had been lovers—that much was obvious; as was Isabel’s impassioned plea for Jorge to marry her. What on earth had possessed her cousin to write a letter like this? Jessica felt sick at the thought of her aunt and uncle reading it; and what about John? Why on earth hadn’t Isabel warned her? And why had she been so convinced that Jorge intended to come to England? To judge from his brother, the young Spaniard wanted to escape from the relationship just as much as Isabel herself.
‘Edifying, is it not?’ her persecutor drawled insultingly. ‘And I understand from Jorge—although he was reluctant to admit it—that he was far from being your first lover.’
Jessica’s eyes widened, mirroring her shock. Was it true?
‘So, obviously realising that your letter had failed, you decided to come in person. Why, I wonder? It must surely be obvious to you by now that Jorge does not wish to marry you.’
What on earth had Isabel got her into?
For a moment she contemplated telling the truth, but to do so meant betraying her cousin. She had protected Isabel for too long to stop now.
‘Perhaps, failing marriage, you had something else in mind?’ The soft suggestion held a trace of bitter contempt. ‘I know Jorge has told you of the marriage his family had hoped might take place between him and the daughter of a close friend of ours—a marriage, I might add, which would stand a far greater chance of success than the one
